Home Invasion
by rebyl
Summary: A tag to the Season 3 finale:"An Evening with Mr. Yang".


**Author's Note: **This story picks up immediately where the Season 3 finale "An Evening with Mr. Yang" left off. To refresh your memory - Shawn had just saved his mother from being blown up by Yang at a drive-in movie theater. Afterwards, Abigail and Shawn were finally going on their date (at the same drive-in), when Juliet showed up to ask Shawn out. Shawn reluctantly turned her down since he was already there with Abigail. The episode ended with Shawn, Abigail, and Gus (who'd come along on the date) watching the movie from Gus' car.

* * *

><p>Half digested popcorn did not pretty vomit make, he decided, before flushing and standing to rinse his mouth. Again. Twice now, he'd excused himself to run to the restroom, and twice he'd vomited what little snacks he'd managed to consume. Now, staring at his reflection in the mirror, he wondered what the hell he was doing.<p>

As if spending the day deciphering riddles and chasing after a psycho killer wasn't enough, he'd nearly lost his mother. That alone was enough to ruin his night, but just when he'd decided he was going to go through with this date - even if it meant having to fake his way through the night, pretending his hands weren't still shaking - _she_ showed up. The woman he'd been dreaming of since she'd sat next to him in the diner and asked him what he did for a living. Okay, so she hadn't asked, but he'd told her anyway, and it had been the start of a beautiful 'flirt-ship'. Somewhere along the way, though, he'd developed genuine feelings for Juliet, and right when he'd finally decided, 'to hell with it, it's never gonna happen', she'd gone and done the unthinkable – she'd actually asked _him_ out.

That one act had brought so much of 'Real Shawn' to the surface, that he was having one hell of a time trying to stay in character. 'Real Shawn' wasn't on a date with Abigail – he was curled up in a tiny ball somewhere deep inside, completely freaking out that he'd come way too close to seeing his mother blown to bits and knowing that it was his fault. 'Real Shawn' was in no shape to be out at the movies. 'Fake Shawn', however, the fun-loving, good-time-having, joke-telling, performer was having a hard time keeping his popcorn down.

He jumped as his phone buzzed, and dug in his pocket. "Are you okay, man?" Gus wanted to know via text. Trust Gus to use perfect grammar and punctuation in a text message.

"no", he texted back. The proper way: without capitalization or punctuation.

A knock came at the door not five minutes later. This was the real reason Gus had come along on his date – he'd always been able to see right through "Fake Shawn", and he'd known that there was a better than average chance he'd be needed.

Shawn opened the door. "Gus, really, there more restrooms just around the corner. You should never usurp a man on his throne."

Gus rolled his eyes. "You can drop the act now, Shawn. Abigail's already gone home."

Shawn wondered very briefly exactly what Gus might've told Abigail to dismiss her so quickly, but he decided he didn't want to know right this minute. "Gus, Gus, trust me when I say, you do not want me to drop the act right now. Not pretty, buddy."

He climbed into the car that Gus had parked right outside the restroom. "Wait, are we going on our own date now? You realize you've done nothing to woo me."

Gus huffed and started the engine. He didn't always agree with the way Shawn dealt with things, but he knew better than to make an issue of it at a time like this. He hadn't even made it out of the parking lot before Shawn had picked a radio station and settled back to hum along with the 80's music.

Gus considered dropping his friend off at Henry's, but quickly decided against it. From the way things had looked earlier, Gus was fairly sure Shawn's mom would be at Henry's house about now, and he seriously doubted Shawn was up for dealing with that. As it was, he had no doubt that once Shawn calmed down, and his brain started processing through the day's events, he'd remember that his mom had been in town and hadn't even told him about it. Shawn had spent so many years fortifying the pedestal he'd put his mom on, that each time he discovered another of her mistakes it crushed him a little bit more.

Finally pulling up to Shawn's place, Gus cut the engine. Before he could even get his seatbelt off, though, Shawn was out of the car and jogging up to his door with a careless wave.

"Later, man. Thanks for the ride!"

Gus weighed his options. He knew Shawn was breaking down, and he knew his friend didn't want anyone around when it happened, but he also knew that he didn't want Shawn to be alone right now.

Finally coming to a decision, Gus grabbed his phone and dialed. "Juliet? It's Gus…"

Juliet had seemed surprised initially. But that surprise had quickly turned to alarm. Gus didn't normally call Juliet up just to chat. He'd wanted to ease his way into the conversation by asking her how she was doing, and what her plans for the night were, but all she had wanted to know was what was going on. Understandable, Gus supposed, since he didn't call Juliet unless _something was going on_.

Gus had tried at first to deny that anything was wrong. "Can't a friend just be concerned about a friend?" he'd asked her, but she hadn't bought it. It was silly, really. The whole reason he'd called in the first place was to see if he could convince Juliet to come see to Shawn, but once he'd had her on the phone he'd been unsure. Gus had been Shawn's friend for years. If anyone knew Shawn, it was Gus. Still, that didn't necessarily make Gus the best one to deal with Shawn in this instance. Gus cared enough about Shawn to at least try to do better for him than a couple of beers and an evening of avoiding the issue. Sighing, he'd told Juliet that he'd had to take Shawn home earlier because he'd been sick during his date.

Juliet's assessment had been immediate: "Traumatic stress. Police officers get it all the time. Where is he now?"

Gus told had her that Shawn was home, and where the spare key was hidden – just in case. "He may not answer the door," he'd warned her.

And then he'd waited, parked right outside Shawn's house until Juliet arrived.

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><p>If Juliet hadn't seen Gus wave and then drive away as she pulled up, she would have wondered if Shawn was even home. The only light came from a street lamp near the sidewalk, and the porch lights from the houses on either side. It made for such an eerie picture that she considered getting her gun just for the comforting feeling of being armed.<p>

She shook off the uneasiness, and marched straight up to the door, rapping on it confidently. No answer. In fact, no sound at all came from the still house. She wondered if maybe Shawn had snuck out the back somehow while Gus waited out front.

"Shawn? You home?" she called out, waiting for a response.

Good thing Gus had told her where to find the spare key. She bent down to find it, not wanting to draw the attention of the neighbors by standing at the door all night. Finally prying it loose from its hiding place in a very inappropriate part of a small garden gnome, Juliet unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark during her time spent at Shawn's door, so she had no trouble seeing that the living room was empty. "Shawn? It's Juliet!" She made her voice loud enough to be heard from another room, but hopefully not loud enough to startle.

She went through the house systematically; front to back, as if it were a police bust. The lights stayed off, both so her eyes wouldn't have to readjust, and so she'd retain the element of surprise (her police training kicking in). She ducked into the kitchen and bathroom, finding both empty. She didn't call out to him anymore, not wanting to wake him if he'd simply gone to sleep. Finally, she reached the bedroom, and finding the door ajar, she quietly pushed it open.

The room was an absolute mess - she could see that even with the lights off. The dresser drawers had been pulled out, their contents rifled through and half-spilled onto the floor. The bedside lamp was on the floor, in two pieces. The nightstands on either side of the bed had been ransacked in the same way the dresser had, and there were clothes and other items she couldn't identify strewn all over the room. The bed was in shambles, bedding all torn off and lying in rumpled piles, the mattresses askew. But still no Shawn.

She stood still a moment, taking in the room, and beginning to wonder if she should call it in as a crime scene, when she heard a noise that made her stomach clench with dread. From the far side of the room, came a distressed whimper.

"Shawn?" she whispered, stepping carefully around the end of the bed. There on the other side, she could just make out Shawn's form wedged against the wall near what she assumed was the closet door. His arms were wrapped around knees that were pulled up to his chest. She couldn't see his face, only the top of his head.

She crouched down next to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder, then winced when he jumped, cracking an elbow against the nightstand. "Shawn, it's Juliet. It's okay."

With his head pressed to his knees, she couldn't quite make out his mumbled answer.

"Shawn, come on, look at me," she coached.

He raised his head far enough to allow his eyes to peer at her from behind his knees. He seemed surprised to see her. "Jules?"

"It's me, Shawn." Now that he was watching her, she carefully laid a hand on one of his arms.

He swallowed, and seemed confused. "Jules, what…?"

"Shawn, what happened here?" She wanted to get whatever information she could out of him before he lost all coherency.

"Jules…"

He seemed to be marveling at her presence, and she was growing more and more concerned. Obviously, he was in shock, but she had to determine if this was a crime scene, and if it was possible that whomever trashed his room was still around. She really wished she'd kept her gun with her.

"Shawn, why don't we go sit in the living room a minute, okay?" She tugged on his arm, standing up and attempting to pull him up with her. Thankfully, he went willingly enough, and taking his arm, she guided him out to his living room.

She settled down next to him on the couch, still holding his arm. "Who trashed your room, Shawn? Can you tell me what happened?"

He began to spit out an explanation with a sort of desperate urgency. "I did it. I – She was here, and I had to know what she'd done. I had to check everything. I should have known, you know? I should have realized she'd come here too. It makes me sick –" he choked on his words and leaned back into the couch, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Who was here, Shawn? Yang?" She asked for clarification, even though the picture was becoming disturbingly clear. The serial killer had broken into his home just like she'd broken into his office.

Shawn nodded in response to her question, but his eyes remaining closed.

She reached up and began running her fingers through the hair at his temple in an effort to calm him while she processed the information. Shawn must have come inside and noticed that "Mr." Yang had been in his bedroom. Then, for whatever reason, he had panicked and torn the room apart looking for evidence of…?

"Did you find anything, Shawn? Did she leave anything? Take anything?"

Shawn nodded again with a jerk. "A shirt, blue and white stripes, third drawer from the bottom. She sat on my bed, and looked through the nightstands. She looked through all my pictures, everything. She tried on one of my jackets." He shuddered.

Before she could stop herself, Juliet asked, "You could tell all of that after the fact?"

He opened his eyes a crack and took a glance at her.

"Right, sorry. A vision." Juliet only now considered how horrific it would be to have to experience a vision of a serial killer in your home, going through your things.

After only a few more moments, still running her fingers through his hair and contemplating, Juliet decided. She stood suddenly, and tugged at him again. "Come on, Shawn. We're going to my place."

Spotting his jacket draped over a nearby chair, she reached for it and laid it over his shoulders while guiding him towards the door. She couldn't imagine staying in her own apartment after it had been invaded like that. She'd get Shawn settled at her place, then help him sort things out in the morning.


End file.
